


Viewpoints

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7929694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 drabbles that I think work together. Two episodes from The Hunger Games from Gale and Peeta's Points of view and lastly Peeta and Katniss at the end of Mockingjay inspired by their discussion of their nightmares.<br/>Prompted by the Hunger Games Re read on Tumblr and D12drabbles prompt "Hope".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Arrow in the Bread

**Author's Note:**

> I noticed Katniss laughs at Gales’ joke about having shot some bread.  
> Which got me thinking that Peeta must have given him the idea…?
> 
> Gale's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 of The Hunger Games- I noticed Katniss laughs at Gales’ joke about having shot some bread.  
> Which got me thinking that Peeta must have given him the idea…?
> 
> Gale's point of view.

Still dark outside. I groan quietly to myself and roll over again. No, it’s no good; I can’t force my eyes to shut. With well practised stealth I climb out of bed and pull on my pants without disturbing my brothers. A grin crosses my face as I remember the last time I did this was to meet Josey Crabtree at the Slag Heap. I’m sure she understood it was just a reaping thing. Everyone is desperate at this time of year. 

Only one more to get through; its no wonder I can’t sleep.

The broken fence offers no resistance as I leave the official district 12 boundary. It would be so easy really, to just walk away into the forest, to know what it feels like to be free. But even without the capitol’s hold over me, I have the ties to my family keeping me in my place. My brothers’ and sister’s lives depend on me. They also depend on Katniss these days; and I take care of her mother and Prim too. Three more reapings for Katniss; two after today. Then I see our future with us officially stamping our bond in marriage. It just makes sense. Though I have to admit it had taken seeing Darius flirting with her to give me the moment of clarity. Katniss is my partner; nobody else should be looking at her that way. 

The summer night air is fresh. Birds are just starting to stir in their nests above me. I can hear a wild dog calling, but it’s far off. I’ll just check the traps nearest the fence for now. The thought that this could be the last time I do this creeps into my head, but I refuse to acknowledge any fear. I just have to take my chances. 

Nothing in the first trap. I have maybe come a little too early. I make my way to the next on my usual route, all the while taking in the quiet movements in the undergrowth, the rustling in the branches. My fist tightens around my knife. This is prime hunting time in the woods.

There’s a squirrel in the next trap. A nice fat one. Nothing could get fat like that within the district fence I note, with the bitterness that has crept into my soul. It would make a good meal for the family; but, as I untangle it, as gently as possible, so as not to spoil its coat, I think of how much the baker likes squirrel. For some reason that’s beyond me, he’s often overly generous with his trades, and with it being the reaping and all...

I make my way back to the fence and head for town. We deserve a treat.

Warmth radiates from the bakery. Warmth from the ovens, the glow of the fires in the half-light of dawn, and the warm smell of the bread rising.

I go round to the kitchen door as always. Inside I can see the baker with his youngest two sons. Rye’s in my year at school. He won’t be going down the mines next week though, he’ll be here with his father, carrying on their family traditions. Unless he gets reaped…

But of course he wont get reaped, a blonde merchant boy with the odds on his side.

I knock on the door frame to attract their attention. Rye comes over. He’s not so bad for a merchant. He beat me at wrestling once; well, they have the diet to build up muscle.

“Last one.” It’s all our year will be thinking of today, might as well get it out the way.

“Yep. You got something for Dad?”

I raise my hand to show him the squirrel.

“Good Luck,” he comments before turning to call his father over to me.

“Hello Gale,” Mr Mellark greets me with his easy smile. “Looks like you started early today.”

His friendly manner just makes me more tense and angry inside. Of course I started early; it’s reaping day, I have my name in forty-two times. 

“I thought you might be interested in this squirrel? It’s a good one.”

His eyes are full of emotion. Half of me wishes I had just kept the squirrel for my mother.

He takes the squirrel and goes through the motions of examining it. As if there was any question that he was going to trade.

“Peeta,” he shouts for his youngest son, “Bring Gale the last loaf that came out of the oven.”

He turns back to me and shakes my hand. A warm, solid handshake that works better than words at a time like this. And, with that, he goes back to his ovens, leaving Peeta to bring me the trade.

“Here’s your bread,” Peeta hands me the warm loaf.

I frown. There’s an arrow in it.

“I found it by the fence the other day. I think it must belong to Katniss. Could you return it to her for me?”

How does he know that’s Katniss’ arrow?

“Sorry it wasn’t a clean shot.”

Lame, I think to myself. He’s a bit of a dork the youngest Mellark. I’ve noticed the way he looks at Katniss. As if she’d ever give him the time of day.

He isn’t made uncomfortable by my silence though. 

“Good Luck Gale.” 

He actually sounds sincere.

I just give him a nod as I leave, carefully wrapping the bread in my hunting bag.

My eyes are heavy and I’m yawning as I make my way back into the woods to our meeting place. Typically, I could finally sleep now, but it’s time to start this day. I go to look out on the sunrise over the trees as I wait for Katniss.

I don’t have to wait long. I doubt she could sleep much either. The shadows under her eyes tell of a restless night. Of course, whilst this is my last, it will be Prim’s first year. It never ends.

“Look what I shot.”

To my surprise, Katniss actually finds this funny. 

Her face lights up when she laughs. Perhaps it’s not too soon to talk about our future together?


	2. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope is Peeta, disguising himself and waiting under a pile of mud.  
> You wouldn’t do that unless you had hope.
> 
> Peeta's point of view.

“Give in and die lover boy.”

The words are hissed out through Cato’s gritted teeth as we struggle on the forest floor. We’re both still wet from the lake and we slip over each other, leaves sticking to us, twigs in our hair. The sword hinders him from getting a punch in, and it’s too long for this close combat. I duck as he tries to slice my throat and then roll over, pinning his sword arm to the ground. 

For a strange, quiet moment we’re lying side by side, breathless, looking up through the canopy of leaves, a glimpse of blue sky above us. A golden bird flies down towards me, but I’m not sure if that’s real. When I turn to Cato his mouth is opened in a silent scream. I want to comfort him, remind him it’s just the tracker jackers, but he surges up, the fear turned to power. We roll over and over, each trying to stay on top. I think I have him at last, my forearm pressed up into his neck so he can’t speak, his face reddening. Droplets of sweat and water sparkle like jewels whilst I’m choking the life out of him. I stop for a second, not sure I can go through with this. In that moment his arm pulls back and I feel the blade cut into my thigh. He drives it hard and I can feel it inside me, making me burn with the pain. ‘Fight or die’ I tell myself, ‘fight or die’. He’s still under me, he can’t move any further as I press my weight down on him. 

“Give up,” he snarls. “You’ll never win.”

He doesn’t realise. I never intended to win. Katniss is going to go home.

As I lie there, losing blood, my hands around Cato’s throat, I realise just how much I want to see her again. Just one more time. I thought this would be enough, but I still can’t quite let her go, not just yet.

My thumbs push down on his windpipe until he chokes, his eyes close and he’s limp. ‘Yes I am too soft to kill you Cato. You’re right.’

He’s still breathing as I drag myself away, into the whispering trees. They’re talking about me. I wonder how Katniss is coping. When I’ve seen all the other tributes in the sky and I know she’s safe. Then I’ll let go.

I’m driven to the stream by thirst, scooping water up to drink as I drag myself through the shallows. It’s exhausting pulling myself along, trying to cover the trail of blood leaking from my thigh. At last I sink into the cushion of mud. ‘There are worse places to sleep,’ I tell myself, lazily putting my hand out to pop the orange bubbles floating by.

The days and nights pass in a haze of fever and hallucinations. I cover myself in the mud, swirling it over my face and hands, blending myself away into the landscape.

Mostly I dream about Katniss Everdeen. I can see her coming home to Prim. They run towards each other at the station, Katniss hugging her little sister close, the way I have seen them so many times before. They’re laughing and crying all at the same time. Katniss will never let Prim down, she needs her; they need each other.

Sometimes it seems she’s here with me, wrapped in my arms by the bank of the stream. I nuzzle my face into her hair and smell the scent of the pines. In my dream she lets me hold her close and take care of her.

When I hear Claudius Templesmith announce the change of rules, I try to get up, but it’s impossible. I’ll have to wait for her. I know she’ll come; it’s just whether or not she’ll notice me. How many years have I spent waiting for Katniss to notice me? And now I need her to see through all the layers of my disguise.

My dream becomes reality as I see her wading up the stream, calling my name.

“You here to finish me off sweetheart.” She scowls and I'm relieved to see the Games haven't stolen her spirit.

I realise that on my own, hope was just a dream, but now she’s here it’s a possibility.

First wish to be granted, a kiss before I die.

I lean over, my lips touching the small shell of her ear, taking in her heat as I whisper, “It’s all right to kiss me any time you feel like it.”

You’ve got to keep holding out for the dream.


	3. Dream Sequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss and Peeta are there for each other, night and day.

“You love me. Real or not real?”

Peeta’s head couldn’t quite believe what had happened last night, though his body still ached with the memory of loving her.

“You love me. Real or not real?”

His eyes snapped open at the lack of a reply. It was still dark, before the dawn, and Katniss wasn’t there. They’d been sharing this bed for months now. Almost as soon as he came back to District 12 she’d asked him to stay. She needed him to keep away the nightmares. That much was true.

His hand on the cold sheet told him she was long gone.

All he knew was he had to find her before it was too late. Down stairs the front door was open revealing a trail of footprints in the snow. He didn’t bother that he was wearing just thin cotton pants for bed and no socks. Tying his laces over his bare feet, once, twice, to be sure, he pulled on the fur-lined jacket, just like the one Portia had designed for the Victory Parade, and followed her out into the cold.

There was no fence anymore and wild animals howled all around. He could hear the snuffling of a beast over by Haymitch’s house. Stalking the geese no doubt.

A gust of wind blew the snow into his face, blinding him for a moment.

“Peeta!” The anguished voice came through the blur of white.

He kept going, following her footprints into the woods.

Something was out there, running behind the trees.

“Peeta!” 

Katniss screamed as loud as she could, and he turned towards her but still he couldn’t see her. 

She felt powerless.

The wild dog came before she could move. Its fangs on Peeta’s leg, tearing his flesh. Limb from limb.

She screamed again, unable to take it anymore.

Panting for breath she sat up, hugging herself, pinching her skin to bring her back to reality.

Something still wasn’t right. 

She shivered with the cold of the nightmare, but here in the world of her waking, seasons were just turning, from summer to fall. The golden light from the window fell across Peeta’s face, picking out each eye lash for her to commit to memory once more.

Her nose dripped onto the sheets as the aftershocks of seeing his torture wracked her body.

She shouldn’t feel aggrieved that he hadn’t been roused by her cry, but she needed his comfort right now. 

“Tell me it’s not real Peeta,” she whispered.

He didn’t move. Just something, a drop of moisture, gathering at the corners of his eyes.

Tentatively, she reached out to brush the hair from his brow, her fingers repeating the soothing strokes.

He spoke without moving. “I lost you,” his voice full of sorrow.

“You ran out into the snow, and I could hear you but I couldn’t find you.”

“I was there with you Peeta. I should have saved you, but I froze.”

His blue eyes were on her now. After so much pain and hurt, still Peeta, with the blue eyes and the shy smile.

She reached out to take his hand.

“Tell me your dream,” she whispered.

“You know my dreams,” He replied, his gaze leaving no place for her to hide.

“Maybe we share the same dreams now?”

She lay down with him, her body finally finding the comfort of curling along Peeta’s torso. Her head on his chest, her hand on his belly. Her leg fitted between his thighs.

“Last night… was that real?”

Her body betrayed her with a blush on her cheeks. She loved what they had done together, she refused to be coy about it now.

“Yes,” it came out almost too loud. 

“You love me. Real or not real?” He cursed himself that he still had to ask.

“Real.” Her reply left no room for doubt.

Peeta’s kiss seared across her lips, branding her with his determination. 

Together they would dream a good dream.


End file.
